


In This Situation, I Choose Flight

by afteriwake



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was not the type to have drunken one night stands, especially with guys like Mick Rawson. So she does what any woman in her situation would do: sneak out as quietly as possible and pray to God she didn't leave anything behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Situation, I Choose Flight

**Author's Note:**

> For **defy_n_gravity** , who gave me the prompt “Never again - Criminal Minds, Emily Prentiss.” I don't think this is quite what she had in mind but it's what sprang forth.

There were many things she had done in her life, but none were so monumentally stupid as _this_. And it wasn't even as if she hadn't done these things before, back in her wild teenage and early adult life, but she had vowed never again and she'd be damned if she did it again.

Well, now she was damned..

She did not sleep with guys she hardly knew. She did not drink heavily. Hell, she didn't do a lot of things that she had just done that evening and was planning to do right now. But she woke up in the bed of a dark haired, dark eyed, very British, very hot man, and she panicked. And the next thing she did, the most obvious thing to do, was escape.

It wasn't as though she hadn't had to get up quietly. Not every time she got up when she was sharing a hotel room with J.J. had been to go out on a case, when she knew J.J. would be getting up, too. Sometimes it had been to go outside and take a walk to clear her head. And to go outside at one or two or three in the morning you had to be dressed in regular clothes, not pajamas. So she knew how to get dressed very quietly and head out the door without waking someone up.

And thankfully he hadn't thrown his arm around her waist or anything. Getting out of the bed was going to be trickier than getting out of the apartment, but she believed she could manage. She slowly scooted off the bed, and when her feet hit the floor she stood up, proud of herself and slightly headachy. Boy, she was going to have a hangover, she thought to herself.

She got her clothes and pulled on the bare minimum: underwear, pants, blouse. Bra could wait, if she could even _find_ her bra, which in the moonlight filled room should have been far easier to do. After three minutes of searching she gave up and simply prayed he wouldn't do something stupid like actually bring it into Quantico to give to her. Or worse, mail it to work. Not like it would be hard to track down her home address, but...no matter what, spending more than three minutes looking for a bra wasn't going to fly if she wanted to get out before he woke up. The knee high pantyhose she wore could stay too. She just needed to grab her heels and--

He turned in bed and she froze, waiting. He mumbled something and then rolled back over. Hastily, she grabbed her heels, grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the door, mentally berating herself for doing something so monumentally stupid in the first place. She barely knew him, they were both FBI, and that in itself was a major no-no on her list of things not to do. Never ever _ever_ date someone else who worked in law enforcement. Just because it worked for J.J. didn't mean it would work for her.

She got to the door, opened it slowly, and stepped out into the hallway of his apartment. She felt bad for leaving the door unlocked, and so she opened it again and turned the lock on the knob and shut it one more time. Okay. Now she wouldn't feel as guilty as she should, because God forbid someone walk into his home and rob him blind. Or worse. She was used to seeing the results of “or worse” and so she wouldn't wish it on anyone she knew, however briefly, except maybe some of the other people who had been the perpetrators of “or worse” crimes. They all deserved karmic punishment and if it got meted out by other criminals, well, then maybe that wasn't so bad.

Her thoughts were running in a tangled mess of thought after thought after thought with no bearing on what was going on right now, and right now she was faced with a problem: she hadn't driven to his place. Oh, she knew where she was, because she could clearly see the cross street, but this was a place that didn't look as though it would have an ATM nearby and she needed at least twenty dollars to get home. So right now she needed to marshal in her thoughts and find an ATM. She looked around, and began to walk north when her phone rang. She silently thanked God that she had put it into her purse and not kept it in her pants pocket because who knows if it would have left the apartment with her. One look at the caller I.D. provided even more relief, because it was J.J.” “Prentiss,” she said.

“We have a case in Los Angeles. I need you here at headquarters in a half hour.”

She froze. This would be problematic. Her go bag was at home, and she was walking around in heels without hose and didn't have a bra on. She could not _possibly_ go to her apartment, make herself presentable, grab her go bag and make it to Quantico in a half hour. “I...can't.”

“Why?” J.J. Asked.

“I'm not at home.”

“ _Oh,_ ” she said knowingly. If Prentiss was in the room with her she was sure she'd see a knowing smile on J.J.'s face. “How soon until you can get home?”

“I need to find an ATM, and then get a cab, and then...thirty minutes from when I get home, so a little less than an hour?”

“You _do_ know cabs take credit cards, right?” J.J. Said in a tone of voice that made Prentiss want to slap her own forehead.

“I forgot.”

“Take the time to get yourself together. I'll have some aspirin waiting for you in the conference room.”

“Bless you,” Prentiss said, relieved.

“By the way, one question.”

“Yes?” Prentiss asked.

“Was it good?”

Prentiss thought for a moment, and then smiled. “Yeah, it was good.”

“Well, good for you. See you in an hour.”

“Bye.” Prentiss ended the call and looked around. The bar they had been at was three blocks away, north. She began walking, knowing it would be faster than calling for a cab and waiting. She'd be farther away, too, in case he came out and started looking for her. When she got to the nearest bar, which happened to be only two blocks away, she got in and told the driver her address, and only then did she relax. She was free, or at least as free as she was going to get because she had the sinking suspicion he was going to track her down and do something she might not like.

–

A week later she arrived home after an incredibly tough case to a package sitting outside her doorstep. She groaned when she saw the name, but took it in anyway. It was thin and rectangular, so she had a very good idea what it was. She got inside, set everything else down, and opened it. She stared at the box inside, then opened _that_ one, and gasped a minute before smiling.

At least he hadn't sent the underwear to work. And he had good taste, too; La Perla underwear cost a lot, and it was a bra and panties, not just a bra, and not even her bra. She ran her fingers on the lace, and then smiled some more. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him a second chance after all...


End file.
